


A Compilation of Goodbyes

by Deuceposter



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family Bonding, Married Couple, Minor Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deuceposter/pseuds/Deuceposter
Summary: After the War of the Dragon, the Shephards must turn their attentions to rebuilding their world, but it begs the question; what is to happen to those who have no home to go back to?
Relationships: My Unit | Reflet | Robin/Tiamo | Cordelia
Kudos: 17





	1. A Dying World

"Now!"

The atmosphere around Morgan condensed; a deep, almost moist pressure building up for that split-second before the crackle of energy burst forth from her open palm. A bolt of pure electricity arcing through the air.

Severa dove through the static residue, the air still thick and charged with a tickling energy. Three striding steps and the raven-haired swords-woman brought her blade in for a mighty swing with the deceptive power of both her lithe arms. She dug in her heel as she slid into her strike, pivoting the full of her torso to throw even more force behind it. It was graceless -brutish, even- something she would _never_ do fighting anyone competent. If she was swinging a club, it would have been a blow intended to send the risen sprawling. Instead, it was all channeled into a single, honed edge.

The risen, who's body had gone rigid from Morgan's lightning-bolt, was cleft cleanly in two- its rotted flesh and bone offering no resistance to her blade. Again, lucky for Severa, risen tended not to splay viscera everywhere when they were cut- only bursting into that foul miasma as they burned to nothingness by whatever horrid dark energy kept them together.

"Sev!" Morgan slid in front of her sister in that crucial second, a warding shield of translucent white thrown hastily up as an arrow plinked uselessly off of it. The risen archer, unphased, simply drew back the bowstring once more with a machine-like precision, killing shaft knocked and aimed at the small red-haired interloper.

It was Severa's turn as her sister tried to catch her breath, the younger unable to incant the flow of power through her body after its last expenditure.

The arrow loosed the moment Severa placed herself in front of Morgan, trying to minimize herself behind her shield while still covering her little sister. The fraction of a second between the snap of the bowstring and the impact of the arrow was the worst; the _anticipation_ of success or failure- of feeling the thing thud into you versus _into you._

And for Severa, it was the former, the second arrow shattering into wooden splinters as it ricocheted off her steel. There was no time to hesitate as she dove in towards the offender, who had already drawn another deadly barb and was methodically seating it in place. It might get one more shot in- but it was locking that glowing red gaze on Severa at least- and Severa had armor, unlike her younger sister's meager robes.

The shaft didn't have a chance to loose as Severa crashed with the undead archer, tackling in shoulder first.

"Sis!"

Instinctively the older sister threw a quick cut, a parting gift as she leapt aside. A small mote of fire, about the size of a fist had been flung hastily from Morgan's hands- it would have been almost pitiful looking… at least to someone who didn't know the power of the younger sibling's magic.

The pillar of flame that had erupted from beneath where the ball had burst, completely engulfed the cursed body and incinerating it before it had even dissolved into that blasphemous smoke.

"That's all of them here!" Severa shouted over the din of combat to her cadre, Morgan quickly running to her side. The younger was scanning, observing, planning as she bit the chewed remainder of a thumb-nail. It was Severa's job to guard her in those brief moment of distraction.

"If we take the fort quick, funnel the risen to the front while we make out the back… well-"

Severa didn't wait for Morgan to double-check her plan, their line was already being pushed back, the risen more of a slow moving tide than an actual army… but it was an unrelenting one at that. Lucina could hold for a time, but without support she would eventually be swallowed up… just like all the rest had.

"Take Inigo and the rest of the army and push for the fort." Severa lifted Morgan by the shoulders, giving her sister a quick hug, "I'm going to drag Luci back by the neck of her stupid cape if I have to."

"S-Sev?" Morgan stammered, too caught up on finding weaknesses in her plan to properly protest. Undoubtedly Morgan was second guessing herself, constantly asking " _What would dad have done?"_

They didn't have the time to waste feeling inadequate.

"Rally on Morgan! To Morgan you dolts! If you want to live!" Severa took off down the bloodied field screaming at the line combatants, leaving her younger sister there clutching her magic tome to her breast-

Just like when they were young, when Severa used to run off in the castle, chasing after Cynthia or Owain...

Morgan would just stand there, clutching her rag-doll.

And she would cry. Never when Severa could see or hear her, but Severa _knew_ that what happened.

"Be strong, Mo'." Severa gritted her teeth as she approached the western flank, "I might not be there for you all the time."

The miasma of blood and smoke spoke volumes for the state of their ragtag army here.

"Fall back east! To the keep!" Severa bellowed through nearly-exhausted lungs, blowing by both wounded and harried soldier alike. She didn't have time to save _everyone_.

Some of them would serve as distractions, after all. Gawds… she hated how warped her mind was-

Another surge of risen clumsily marched forward, threatening to swallow the line whole, and only a single section still held firm. A ring had formed, a mob of cursed corpses all trying to clumsily swing at whatever poor soul was stuck in the center- _that_ was where Severa would exert herself.

"Let's go!" She came barreling in like boulder, her shielded shoulder slamming into the back of a risen, sending the corpse down where it _should_ belong. A single downward thrust of her sword to ensure that was where the thing would stay. Her blade arm did not rest, cutting bodies and hewing limbs- forcibly tearing open a hole through the circle.

Breathless, sore, and worst of all- sweaty, Severa's efforts were rewarded with that glorious light- the flash of Falchion as it split bodies like they were made of parchment. One more push- one more surge... She slid easily next to her adoptive cousin's graceful movements, parrying a cut intended for Lucina's back.

"S-Severa?"

"We're pulling back east."

"Good, I will hold them here and-"

"Like hell you are." Severa shoved Lucina towards the gap that was soon to fill. Before the princess could plant herself in protest, Severa grabbed the scruff of Lucina's neck and just kept shoving. The impacts- the pain in her back… that she could ignore for the time being. Lucina was not just _Severa's_ light… she was the final beacon for this whole doomed army. If Severa fell, oh well, just one more body to the pile- but if it was in Luci's defense… at least it would be a worthy death.

"Severa-" Lucina's eyes were watching the soldiers that they passed- the doomed men and women fighting not for any ideal or cause, but to save their own skins.

"Keep going!" Severa squeezed the nape once more. She knew what Lucina was going to say- going to _protest_ \- and there was not the damned shred of patience left in her body for _anyone's_ stupidity, not even for the crown princess.

After all, this was no grand battle... no glory to be won here or face to save by standing ground.

This was an exodus-

This was a panicked retreat of a broken people- half of whom weren't even trained soldiers.

Certainly they had to protect as many as they could… but those that could not keep up were swallowed up. Severa's heart twisted at her own truth.

She didn't give one damn about everyone else- the only ones who mattered to her were her family and her friends. She didn't want to be a hero- she didn't want to be like her mom or dad. After all, look at where _that_ got them- dead somewhere while the Dread Dragon ravaged the world.

"Severa!"

Lucina managed to break Severa's hold, and instinctively the raven-haired swords-woman drew her steel on the crown princess- ready to urge her forward at sword-point.

"Move or I move you-" she growled.

"You're wounded."

They had pushed past the now-collapsing center- they had escaped the jaws clamping down but they hadn't made it to "safety" yet.

And Lucina wanted to tend Severa's wounds? Her cousin pulled a flask from her belt- one of the precious few elixirs left, holding it out for Severa. It was clear from the cuts and battering of Lucina's own armor that she had drank from it already. Severa pushed it back with a scowl.

"Morgan would never forgive me." Lucina insisted.

"Mo' would understand. You sacrifice the pawn to save the king."

Lucina's hesitation only made the pain in Severa's back more noticeable- the longer they stalled the more the adrenaline wore off. She had half the mind to just leave Lucina here- hope that the guilt would force her cousin to follow.

"You're... more of a knight though-?" Lucina's earnestness in the statement had taken Severa completely aback, defusing that frustration and anger in an instant. Even as the blue-haired princess awkwardly scratched at her cheek, standing like a right loople-headed dullard in a pitched battlefield, Severa couldn't find the presence of mind to insult her. It made Severa chortle in an unlady-like, snorting fashion.

"Right then- as a knight I must rescue the princess. Barring a horse to escape on, get a move on." Severa felt her movements growing more sluggish- her sword heavier as she used it to point towards the hilltop fort the trickle of evacuees were making for.

Lucina placed a halting hand on Severa's shoulder, as if to infuse her own spirit with Severa's. She stood straight and proud, taking a deep breath, "To the fort! To the fort! There we will stand!" Lucina's voice rang out like a church-bell.

Even exhausted, even in the throes of inevitable defeat, Lucina was still _dignified_. The complete opposite of the mess that Severa undoubtedly both looked _and_ felt as she was dashing down the lines. Far more banners, far more soon-to-be-dead fought harder than before.

Less desperation, more hope. Far more foolishly misplaced hope.

Lucina spun, cape fluttering in the ash-and-smoke choked winds. Seeing that pained, but determined smile on her cousin's face… well Severa certainly felt a bit of hope too, as much as she refused to admit it.

"To the keep." Lucina nodded, this time wrapping Severa's arm around and over her shoulder.

Severa hadn't even realized how woozy she felt- how heavy her steps were. Her sword had dropped from her hand somewhere in the barren dirt behind them. The hill- gawds this _stupid_ hill-

"We're almost there, Sev." Lucina's voice was soft, like back when they were kids. Back before Lucina had to be _the_ princess. Before their whole world fell apart. Severa stumbled in her step, Lucina barely catching her before she tumbled face first to the ground.

"Luci-"

"Yeah, Sev?"

"I'm scared." Severa choked on her own words. She couldn't look Lucina in the eye after such a shameful admission- after everything that they had gone through...

"We all are." Lucina placed her head against Severa's, "But we're almost to the Dragon Gate. Don't give up on us now."

 _Us_.

Morgan, Luci, and Cynthia were counting on her sword still. Kjelle, Brady, Laurent, Nah, Gerome… they were still fighting for the flicker of hope that they could change all of this; gawds even Yarne and Noire were still fighting instead of giving up. And Inigo and Owain, as annoying as they were, she still had words that she needed to say to those two idiots…

But her world was going black- her eyelids getting heavier by the moment. As much as she wanted to fight it, to not be a burden on Luci, her legs refused her.

"-by Naga- What happened to Severa?"

"Brady! Get Brady down here!"

"-she looks like shit- Ow hey! You ain't my mom-"

Consciousness flitted in and out like a butterfly through the flower fields.

"-rm up. Make a perimeter-"

Those dead, charred flower fields.

"-can't die now! You can't!"

Mo'?

Morgan?

There was a steel in Morgan's voice- an authority that gave Severa reassurance. A warm light washed over her, drawing her away.

_Time to see Naga, I guess? Sorry everyone, I'm going to be the first one there._

It was like someone was lifting her up, that light glowing brighter and brighter as she neared the source of it all, carried to the heavens...

And right into Brady's ugly mug.

Instinctively Severa threw a punch, catching him in the gut.

"-yeap- she's alive." He wheezed, taking a seat on the stones of the fortress floor.

And a retaliatory slap struck the daze from Severa- the weight of a signet ring adding far more sting than what was necessary.

"Idiot! Dolt! Dullard!" Morgan shrieked, violently shaking Severa with what little strength she had in that tiny frame of hers, "Don't leave me like that again!" Morgan threw her arms around Severa, burying her face into Severa's breast just as she had done when they were kids. The only thing Severa could do was gently stroke those cherry locks of Morgan- the living reminder of their mother… the reminder of just how the sisters were left alone. The guilt choked Severa's words to her sister- instead turning towards Brady and mumbling a quick apology.

Her friend shrugged it off, motioning towards the western door.

"Everyone else's outside the front of the fort makin' a perimeter." Brady pulled himself by the staff, grunting like an old man in the process, "We're gonna make a stand here 'til that first wave up the hill breaks, you coming?"

"What makes you think that will work? What if they just surround us again?"

"Why do you gotta question me? If you got questions ask your lil' sis. It's her plan." Brady grunted, dusting himself off and making for the fort's gate. With Morgan still attached to her by the neck, Severa stood. Even as her sister tried to drag her back down, Severa took those laden steps forward.

"Mo', you stay here and help the evacuation-"

"No." Morgan tried to pull using all of her weight, like a stubborn child she clung on.

"Morgan, now is _not_ the-"

"You don't even have a sword, idiot!"

Hearing Morgan snap like that… the crybaby Morgan to snap with such anger in her words...

Damn right it stopped Severa in her tracks. Her sister threw up her hood, hiding those undoubtedly blood-shot and tear-stained eyes, and clutched her magic tome to her chest.

"We always go _together_." Morgan's voice rang with a clear rumble, with a power and authority that she almost _never_ expressed. It unsettled Severa, but she was so used to the meek little sister-

The innocent little sister. Severa had killed that little bit of Morgan that she so desperately wanted to protect.

But, in the end, this was their world now, and Morgan would have to grow up eventually even if this crazy plan of Lucina's didn't pan out. Would it not be best by Severa's side rather than the harsher realities? Severa held her hand out to her sister in wordless apology- she had been the one to promise that they would always be together after all. Quietly, Morgan placed the handle of a fresh sword in Severa's weathered hand.

Together in life, together in death, together in a new world or the dying remains of this one… Severa promised her mother and father that she'd always watch over Morgan…

And she was certain that Morgan felt the same. Who was she to deny the fiery heart of her little sister any longer?

"Let's go, then." She sighed, "They're hopeless without us."

Sword in one hand, and Morgan's in the other, Severa could feel her mother's signet ring dig further into her finger as she readied herself for just one more battle.


	2. A Beloved Sister

“We’ll always be together, Mo’.” Severa lied.

Everything life had taught her up to this moment was  _ that _ particular fleeting idea was never further from the truth. Even if every star aligned, every doomed fate lined up for them was defied, and reality itself twisted for the benefit of the sisters, the great equalizer came for everyone in the end and then...one way or another, one of the sisters would be left alone forever without their other half.

All those moments of weakness, those times where Severa just wanted it all to just  _ end _ … it had been the thought of leaving Morgan… of little Morgan all alone that dragged her heart back into the fight time and time again.

Severa looked down into the ever exuberant eyes of Morgan- those eyes that had never lost their luster since she was babe- and faltered. It was Severa’s duty as the older sister to ensure the safety and happiness of her younger, to see them through this final hurdle... and she couldn’t take that final step.

“Always together, Sev.” 

Morgan could always feel when something was off with her big sister, and gently she took Severa’s hand. The matching set of their parent’s signet rings gently tapped together; what little it did to ease Severa’s nerves, it was better than standing in this dour silence.

Morgan wished her own words were the truth, yet even she was not as naive as she had once been. Something in the back of her mind constantly whispered, constantly delighted in the moments of Morgan’s weakness. While everyone else held hope that their parents were alive, Morgan knew with unpleasant clairvoyance that the Shepherds were dead; broken and betrayed by one they loved. In one of those moments of crushing doubt, Morgan had confided the contents of her vision to her adoptive cousin Lucina over her own sister- and though it spurred this great exodus, the lives that were lost because of it could be placed squarely at Morgan’s feet. The voice taunted her constantly about it.

But if Morgan didn’t have Severa… she doubted she would have made it this far. So, even as Severa moved to take a reluctant step towards that yawning doorway, Morgan tugged her sister’s arm back. Severa had to be  _ sure _ of herself.

“Mo-”

“I don’t know what will happen on the other side, but I love you, Sev!” Morgan still spoke with a smile that could lighten the most dark of hearts, and with an enthusiasm that would not betray the anxiety she felt coursing through her mind, for it was her duty as a younger sibling to make sure her older sister never swayed in her purpose. She hugged Severa as hard as her arms could, feeling that bow-string tension in her older sister loosen ever-so-slightly.

And with that final comforting gesture, the pair approached that yawning maw together. The great otherworldly gate that washed away the oppressive darkness of the night with a radiant spectrum spilling forth. It beckoned them to ascend its grandiose steps, and who were they to refuse such a divine artifact? Yet each step stabbed yet more daggers of anxiety and fear into their hearts until the two girls stood before that great swirling vortex of the unknown, practically embracing one another before its vastness.

“J-just… just hold onto my hand.” Severa gripped her younger sister even tighter as the magic of the gate nipped at her skin, like a cat playing with its next meal. “We will be fine as long as you hold onto me.”

“G-got it.” Morgan had no qualms about it. Ever since she was able to walk, she had held onto her sister. First it was out of fear- the unknown, the great expanse of the world around her that overwhelmed and oppressed. Yet as she grew older, she clung to her sister still. Even as her mind came to make sense of everything around in a logical and analytical manner, Morgan could never shake the feeling of a looming loneliness and emptiness that always seemed to creep ever closer with each passing day. It was something her logical mind could not make sense of- and as her world began to spiral into darkness, Severa still stood. Even as all others fell, her sister, through sheer force of will, persevered.

But this was different. After everything the two had seen- had  _ suffered _ … 

_ This _ was something that Morgan knew in the deepest recesses of her being, would not go the way they hoped.

How she wanted to say she was scared- how she wanted to collapse on that very step and cry for her mother and father, her adoptive aunts and uncles of the Shepherds, her friends that didn’t make it... everyone she had grown up loving and being loved by. How she wanted to curse the fate that had been spun, rage and unleash that virulent hate and ugliness she held within for so long.

Looking now at her sister, posture of a seasoned warrior in a youth who never experienced innocence, face bereft of emotion where the joys of adolescence should have lit a bright smile- a false strength brought on by necessity… Morgan could not back away from their shared conviction now.

Severa had kept them alive, and Morgan kept them sane. What would happen to her dear sister if Morgan gave up hope? Who was she to question any sliver of light still housed in Severa’s already rent heart?

But somewhere deep down, in that dark place where the voice lurked, Morgan knew that she couldn’t go to where the others had, she couldn’t risk bringing  _ it _ with her. She had kept it back for as long as she could, long enough for everyone else to escape.

_ Father _ was calling her.

“Here goes nothing.” Severa breathed out, putting on a brave face as her foot disappeared into the scintillating portal, glancing back to Morgan with that scared, nervous grin.

Morgan had intended to let go- to remain behind to close the gateway, but Morgan’s resolve was no match for her own habits as she stumbled in behind Severa, unable to let go after seeing such a heart-rending expression on her sister’s face as it melted into the portal’s light.

The magics tore at the pair as it sucked them into the flow of magic.

Dragged down, tumbling and spun in a mighty vortex of cosmic power, Morgan shut her eyes so tight that, at least to her perception, the blinding assault of lights went dark. She wanted to scream, to let a guttural roar from the seat of her belly so loud that her sister would be able to hear her of the maelstrom around them.

And yet, over the chaos of it all Morgan could hear a voice, warm and motherly-

A whisper, so soothing and calm, washing over her very soul.

_ Your struggles, child... your love for your family and friends is admirable. _

_ If you could be reborn, my child- burden-less and free... _

_ What would you wish? _

A price was set. A deal proposed. Equity demanded for the cosmic scale.

How long had Morgan simply followed her sister? How long had she held Severa back? ‘tis true that she never wished to harm her sister ever again… but perhaps… perhaps if Severa could see them again the pain would be a temporary one. Who knows, mayhap Morgan would be able to see Severa after her time was up? The tales they could tell one another when the time came.

“I love you, sis.” Morgan whispered as Severa’s sleeve slipped from her fingers, whisked away into the grand aetherial current.


	3. A Grieving Wife

The full moon's cold light spilled into the office. Frosted glass distorted the beams into warped, ghostly strands that framed the man who lay slumped forward upon a grandiose oaken desk. A single, undignified snort escaped the sleeping tactician, drool gradually staining the sleeve of his robes. A candlestick long melted into a heaped glob at the base of it's holder. The whole of the desk screamed of frenetic, disorganized work- completely the opposite of the man who it all belonged to. In fact, the only thing that was correctly a mess was that tousled, perpetually bedraggled black hair of his.

It was certainly _not_ a charming look for the Exalt's head advisor.

It was also, most certainly, _not_ a charming look for Cordelia, whom had promised to meet with him here for dinner before sundown.

She snuffed out her candle, placing it in a sconce by the doorway. As silent as a ghost, she swept in towards her husband. A sudden guilt swelled up an into her throat as she saw the parchment and scrolls that stacked up and up, like a little fortress of busywork. His final act before losing consciousness was the same as what had kept her from him this evening- ensuring Chrom's rule was one of peace and reconstruction.

"He worked himself to exhaustion." Her whispered lament did not wake the tactician, "Who does that remind me of, I must wonder."

Another punctuating snort had surprised the pegasus knight, though she was very aware of this man's sleeping habits. He would certainly catch another cold if he continued in this manner week after week… though again, Cordelia blamed herself for that. She hadn't been the most attentive of wives, as of late. Careful as not to disturb him just yet, Cordelia slipped behind the simple, uncomfortable wooden stool that he _insisted_ upon using. With no coat to cloak her husband in, she settled for stooping low, scooping up what she could of him into an embrace, pressing her warm cheek against his cold neck.

"Mghmmm." Robin mumbled, twitching slightly at the warmth, but still not stirring.

"Darling." Cordelia cooed, her warm breath drifting to his ear, "Darling, wake up."

She knew exactly how it would happen- this certainly wasn’t the first time this little intimate skit had played out. As predicted, Cordelia withdrew as Robin snapped upright, eyes darting around the room, trying to find the presence that had disturbed him, unsure if friend or foe.

It was then Cordelia struck again from behind, entwining herself upon him like a snake, pinning his arms to his side with her own. With the grace and poise of even Olivia herself, she gently swung her torso down upon his lap, giving him a fleeting kiss upon the lips as she did so. Robin had yelped in surprise in her mouth, but instantly relaxed upon seeing Cordelia sprawl out in his lap, her silken hair spilling to the floor as she looked up to him apologetically. She had even jutted out that plump, glistening bottom lip of hers that begged for him to sweep her off her feet and just _kiss_ her.

All to distract him from being stood up in such an uncouth manner.

It certainly worked for the moment, as Robin bent over to greedily claim his wife's lips. The frustration certainly had led to his normally teasing and addictively fleeting gestures of affection to be rougher and far more hungry. It was most certainly sloppier than those perfect kisses that _she_ would give, but she made her contentedness clear when she breathed a delighted sigh into his mouth.

When Robin finally came up for air, leaving a dazed and breathless Cordelia panting in his lap, he grinned wide.

"Apology accepted."

She wrapped her lithe arms around his neck, threatening to pull him down for another round, but she felt content in simply relaxing there, head dangling off his lap. In that brief moment, she could feel the shadow of guilt flash across her face, the words she wanted to say pulling themselves up and out of her lungs.

"I-"

Robin roughly kissed her one more time, letting his frustration at her sudden desire to make excuses be known without words. When he finally released her, he made sure to lift her upright with him. She still clung to him, but this time pulled more of herself into his lap.

"You're here now." He whispered, tightening his hold around her waist, "Did you eat?"

"N-no." Cordelia flushed as bright as her hair. It wasn't the first time she had neglected herself in such a fashion… but that particular habit she thought had ended with the war.

"Good."

Puzzled, she still clung to Robin, even as he awkwardly groped below his desk for something. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could barely make out the shape of a small basket covered with a red cloth in the exact shade he blouse and skirt were cut from- her favorite color.

Once again, the pang of guilt pushed an excuse up her throat, ready to heave forth, and once again, her husband attended her. His gentle caress of her cheek brought her eyes back to him. Robin bounced his legs, a signal for Cordelia to stand, despite every fiber of her being demanded she stay firmly planted until Robin was warm once more.

Reluctantly though, she stood, taking a moment to straighten out her blouse and skirt. Even now, in the silence of a castle that had long since turned in for the night, she was conscientious of her appearance. The sigh escaped her quicker than she could catch it, earning herself another quick, stern-but-loving touch from Robin as he traced the crease of her brow that he teased would become permanent.

"Luckily it does not need to be warm." Robin motioned for her to take up the chair across his desk as he hastily cleared space between them.

When the walls or paper had been torn down, he cast wide the basket's cover, revealing an already diligently slice loaf of crisp bread, thick medallions of what smelled like smoked pork, small thin triangles of a white cheese, and a sweetly aromatic, chunked sauce. It looked so simple, but when compared to what they had eaten during the war- compared to what most of the peasantry ate, it was delicacy.

With an almost reverent way, Cordelia's husband assembled what was to be their now mid-night meal. She watched as he placed the cheese and pork upon the crisp before placing a small dollop of the sauce on top. He held it out to her as he blindly grabbed for something beneath the desk.

As Cordelia took the first bite, Robin had pulled forth a red wine- one of the ones from across the seas… from Rosanne. A belated wedding gift from Virion and Cherche, most certainly.

The flavors, the palette of the meal… it blended perfectly. Cordelia had no doubt that the wine would pair as well, somehow. All this thought put into a simple meal together was certainly not a surprise, given the meticulous nature of her husband. The man was a tactician, after all.

Quietly Cordelia mulled as she chewed, eyes never leaving her husband as he diligently went about making sure that she was attended to first.

The flawed, prideful man that he was… it was that selfless drive to help others that had brought the two of them together. It was that part of him that she so desperately needed to bring perspective to her actions… but it was also what had tore at her soul every time he went about tasks by himself.

It always brought back memories of the day that Grima was defeated.

The day that Robin had made his decision… In that fleeting glimpse of him, before they had sailed off to the final battle, she already knew what was to happen- a task that he would not- _could not_ let anyone else bear for him.

And Cordelia was sure that she would never see her husband again.

That was just who he was-

Who they _both_ were.

At that time… she knew- she understood him, stood by his decision. For the peace of the world, the two of them would have made any sacrifice.

But it was the days after, when peace was secured... that was when the pain came. There was naught much Morgan or Severa could do to comfort their mother. Not a word from Sumia or Chrom could pull her mind from it. For seven days she had locked herself away, turning back every member of the Shepherds, even her daughters.

To call that time the lowest point in her life was to be selling it short.

She remembered Robin's words to her from back then; back when she had suffered this pain the first time-

"They sacrificed themselves because they loved you."

And she raged against it. Why did people have to sacrifice themselves for-

"Cordelia?" Robin's voice was that same tone of concern that she had grown so used to in the past. Instinctively it made her suddenly self-aware.

"Nothing." She wiped the tear that had welled in the corner of her eye away, "It was nothing, dear. Just a bad memory."

Those days after… she did not speak of, not even to Robin. There was an instinctive, irrational fear that he would balk at her weakness, despite being the one man that embraced her for that self-same weakness. As far as her husband knew, she had mourned as she was expected to, before returning to her duties as knight captain.

In that week she had turned her quarters into a war-torn hellscape. She had fallen to the deepest pits of despair in the most shameful of ways. She had almost betrayed the first promise she had made to Robin- from before their vows, from before they were even lovers.

"Bad memories…?" Robin tilted his head, eyes alight with curiosity, but he did not press the issue. Quietly he reached across the desk, taking Cordelia's war-weary, calloused hands unto his own. He could tell that she was trying so hard to pull herself out of _something_ \- to enjoy this moment despite this bad memory impeding her.

"You came out stronger in the end, though?"

"I did." Cordelia smiled from the bottom of her heart, "It also gave me a new perspective, much like before." She laid her other hand over Robin's, squeezing it gently, "Which is why every day I have with you is a blessing from Naga herself."

It was a sickenly sweet line, certainly, but it was the truth in the greatest sense. For Naga to have granted Robin a second chance for his sacrifice was nothing short of a miracle. Cordelia had hardened her heart, despite Chrom and Lissa's assurances that their friend was out there in the world somewhere. Despite the zeal of the search parties sent out in the Halidom and in the continents beyond for the savior of the world, Cordelia herself held little hope.

When Cordelia had emerged from her quarters on that seventh day of grief, she had pushed forward with her duties with such fervor that she seemed like a woman possessed by Naga herself. What else was she to do? Fall back into that shameful place, or continue her husband's memory and legacy?

Overcome by a wave of guilt, Cordelia pulled herself over the desk towards Robin, taking the man by surprise. Ever so gently, she brushed aside those unkempt raven bangs and pressed her forehead against his.

"For you are the man I pledge my life. You are the man who pulled me from my waking-dream of a life and showed me true happiness. The man who inspires me to enjoy a life awake and to its fullest." There was not a day that had gone by that Cordelia had not recalled her wedding vow, even in those dark days.

"For you are the woman I pledge my life. You are the woman who inspired me to be a greater man than who I was. The woman who inspires me to make every day better than the last." Robin quietly recited his own, though he added one more line that was not spoken on their wedding day.

"You are the one who showed me that there are things that one must do to protect the ones they love with such passion."

He knew of her pain greater than anyone else. The guilt that hid beneath the fiery and passionate exterior of Cordelia could never be fully smothered. It was a scar that would never go away, but one that she had grown to live with. Every mention of those memories was like scratching at it, but to let her simply hide it as if nothing had happened was to do a disservice to a woman as Cordelia, especially in regards to how much she had grown.

Despite that, Robin had made a selfish decision. It was the right decision in _both_ of their minds, but still…

Cordelia had shied away slightly, averting her eyes from the pain. It was to be expected, it was a large scar, after all, and even his return had not healed it completely. Robin quietly awaited her to compose herself, still gently holding her hand even as the distance between their faces grew. When Cordelia glanced back to him, the strength in her eyes had returned.

"Did you know you were going to be brought back?"

"No, but…" Robin hesitated upon seeing the face of his beloved twist once again, though he was compelled to explain himself, "I felt that I would see you and our girls again. Not necessarily in this life but…"

He struggled with the words. Listening to others, helping them formulate words was his forte. When it came to matters of _his_ heart it was certainly far more… difficult. Robin could feel his face contorting with frown after frown as he tried to find the most tactful choice in words.

"No more sacrifices." His wife held a stern finger to his nose, making him freeze. There was a growl in her tone that no man, no matter how brave they were, would _dare_ question, "I do not wish to draw the ire of Naga, but if you were to leave us in such a manner again, I would claw you from the gates of the afterlife myself."

There was that fire- that drive that had rekindled in the ashes of Cordelia's despair and grief.

"I would not doubt such a feat from a woman as great as you, my love." Robin had joked, but upon seeing such a frightful glower from Cordelia he instantly began trying to think of a way to make a tactical retreat from the blunder his mouth had placed him in.

"Honeyed words will only get you so far, _dear_." Her ire was certainly well deserved, and the threat in her glare was not to be taken lightly. Such a pleasant evening had grown so sour, all because of his choice in words. There was only one thing he could do to quell his wife's growing fire.

"I swear upon our most sacred of vows," Robin held up his wedding band, letting it shine in the dull moonlight, "I will never place anyone or anything else above you or our family ever again."

In that moment, Cordelia realized she had been holding her breath. In her sudden fit of anger... her sudden burst of jealousy, she had made her husband swear upon their vows in the most unequal of ways.

She placed her hand against his, her wedding band tapping gently against its partner.

"I swear upon our most sacred of vows that I will _never_ place anyone or anything else above you or our family _ever_ again." Cordelia spoke breathlessly, flushing in embarrassment at her sudden realization at everything that had transpired.

 _Why_ it had transpired in the first place.

No doubt Robin believed it was his fault that such an outburst occured... and that this cold silence permeated the rift between them as a result. His words had certainly touched too close to the scarred nerves… but it was still Cordelia's fault that they were having such a conversation.

If she had just arrived when she said she was going to, they could have had the whole evening to simply bask in each other's company like they both so deeply desired. She wanted nothing more in the whole of the world than to simply embrace him, to have him coddle her in a way most unbefitting her status as Wing Commander or as his role as Advisor to the Exarch. To simply be with one-another in the normalcy that peace brought.

"No more late nights without each-other." She promised him, her heart still very much a tempest of emotions, though none came back up to the surface more often than love. So much of her pride had been placed on perfection certainly… but perhaps… perhaps it was time to shift just what she wished to be perfect at.

Quietly Robin rolled up the parchment he was working on, throwing it carelessly onto the pile with the others. He snapped the adjacent tome shut, pushing it aside as one would some undesired nuisance.

"No more wasting away the time that we can have together." He agreed, satisfied at the result of all this turmoil had finally landed upon. As he pulled himself from his desk with a groan, his joints betrayed just how long he had been affixed to that accursed stool. The overworked tactician rounded the desk, arm held out to his lady, to which Cordelia gratefully took up.

"The greatest duo in all the Shepherds certainly must have earned themselves at least a modicum of reprieve in their constant duties to the kingdom." Robin's posture was rigid, a mockery of overly stiff and regal nobility that was so often demanded of them in the House of Nobles. Cordelia giggled softly at the juxtaposition of such a disheveled, exhausted man putting on airs of the court. She was not one for all of the pomp and ostentatiousness that their new titles demanded, either.

"Oh yes, most certainly their lord would overlook a small delay in their duties now and again." Cordelia bid farewell to the tension that she had so willingly clung to earlier. With one hand, she straightened Robin's off-center collar in that way she so adored to do. In the other, she made a grab for the bottle of wine that sat upon the desk, patiently awaiting its enjoyment by the couple.

"Care to retire then, dear?"

"Most certainly. Perhaps we should leave a note to the castle staff about our late start in the morrow?"

"It is as if you read my mind, love."

Quiet as to not disturb the other inhabitant of the castle, the couple made for their chambers, speaking softly of their peaceful days, monotony and all, for even the most boring of days held the simple warmth of being together again at the end of it.


	4. A Determined Daughter

Severa parried the incoming spear-tip, passing it off to her shield as she charged past the haft. She was beyond the killing-point of it but…

The pressure against her shield let off, meaning the follow-up was coming; a shallow thrust, or a wheeled swing? Her opponent had taken a deep retreating step- two paces- a wheeled swing, then. She pulled her sword in to cover her right side as she continued to barrel forward.

And to Severa's surprise, the swing came in low, trying to take a leg out from under her.

"Really!?" She roared, leaping off-line- specifically to the weak side of her opponent; the side where they didn't hold their spear. Her move forced them to have to shift to get the pointy-bit back on Severa. It did little to curb the raven-haired swordswoman barreling down upon them like a ballista bolt. It was a mixed flurry of untamed slashes and her opponent's desperate attempts to block them with the spear's haft. Severa had them dead to rights- once a pike or spear had to be pulled back to block, it lost its only advantage of range. So she lashed and slashed, making sure each strike was opposite the last- force them to have to whip that heavy thing back and forth. Upper thigh, shoulder, lower thigh, right rib, left arm-

Her blows slowly began snaking through until, finally, her opponent fell to one knee.

"I yield!" The spear fighter cried just as Severa was about to bring her blade down upon their silvery helmet. They tore the thing off in frustration, a wave of cobalt blue spilling out; her hair having come undone from a battered bun.

"Geez Sev, you could have pulled some of those you know?" Cynthia winced as she gingerly pressed on the marred surface of her breastplate, where Severa's sword-strokes hadn't been so kind.

Severa only grunted, pulling her own helmet off before casting it and her wooden practice sword aside.

"If I were on my pegasus you wouldn't have stood a chance." Cynthia whined, but her excuse struck a nerve in her adoptive cousin.

"Yeah, but you _weren't_ right now. You weren't even on it when we had left _there_ either, and you still fought better than whatever _this_ was." Severa's snarl did not have the intended reaction she had hoped for. Instead of Cynthia _admitting_ her weakness, her younger cousin's face crumpled into a wadded frown.

"What's gotten into you, Severa?"

A lot of things- though a lot more had never left her to begin with. Severa could only scowl back, turning from Cynthia as she fixed her ribbons back into her now loose hair.

"Sev?"

She could feel Cynthia's frown, the antithesis of the usually bubbly and excited form that Cynthia took. Severa tended to have that effect on people.

"Everyone's getting weaker." Severa mumbled, taken slightly aback at just how harsh she had been.

"But we are stronger than when we left, aren't we?" Cynthia retorted. Her words were not without their own merit, but… but-

"Is it enough, though? We _have_ to go back, and if we waste away our potential _here-_ "

"So that's why you've been so prickly? _More_ prickly." Cynthia quickly corrected herself with a sigh before pressing a cup of cold water against the nape of Severa's neck. The swordswoman neither shirked from it, nor jumped like her mischievous cousin expected; Severa's nerves were so deadened by this point it'd take a manakete's breath to have her feel anything.

"You're mad at us." Cynthia jabbed a particularly pointy finger into Severa's face the moment the swordswoman spun to meet her. How she wanted to bite that damned thing.

"Like hells I am."

"Is this about what Luci and I spoke about?"

"You mean what _all_ of you have been talking about?" Severa snapped, "You even got Mo' in on it too?"

Cynthia fell silent, caught red-handed. No doubt they wanted to use Severa's precious little sister to convince the only one who ardently stood her ground.

"Well we're heroes here now. Even heroes need a moment or two of respite before their next fight-"

"We left people behind Cynthia. That's not a very heroic thing to begin with, don't you think? In fact, it's almost the exact _opposite_." Severa's verbal jab instinctively caused her lips to pull back into a snide grin. Cynthia was certainly taken aback, an amusing mix of blush-red fluster and anger.

"J-Just because you hated your parents before they died doesn't mean everyone else hated theirs!" Cynthia shrieked tossing what was left of her cup into Severa's face, "Some of us are actually _happy_ here!" And with that final verbal gut punch, Cynthia stormed out before Severa could even sputter her own half-hearted defense.

Gawds.

Gawds, Naga take this damned, safe world!

Severa poured the remainder of her cup over her head, shuddering as the cold tendrils of it slid down her scalp.

Or was she shuddering from her rasping sobs?

"Sev?" That voice she dreaded most called out to her. The one person she didn't want to appear weak in front of.

"Why'd 'Thia look so mad? She didn't even stop to say hi."

"Disagreement." Severa tried to punch herself in the gut, let the physical pain mask the internal one. "Nothing to worry about, Mo'."

A moment of silence. A chance for Severa to grit her teeth and put on a frustrated, but still cordial face.

"Liar."

Morgan's thin little arms wrapped around Severa's waist, a loving, comforting hug. It brought with it the warmth that Severa needed.

Until Morgan tried to throw her weight backwards. Completely surprised, the attempt took Severa off balance for a moment, at least before Severa instinctively lowered her center of gravity and widened her stance.

Instead of being thrown backwards by her younger and much smaller sister, both siblings wound up awkwardly tumbling sideways.

"What the hells are you doing, Morgan!?" Severa panicked, as most of her weight- armor and all- came crashing down on Morgan.

"You're being a big dumb jerk again." Morgan frowned back, puffing her cheeks in frustration.

"Cynthia started it." Came Severa's default excuse, but Morgan only squirmed to lean in further, her cheeks puffed so past capacity that her normally pale face flushed red as breath escaped her lips in little sputters.

Annoyed, Severa smushed in those cheeks until they emptied, then using the tips of her fingers, pulled Mo's face into a crude mockery of her younger sister's usual smile.

"Fine. I'll apologize." Severa's words pelted out, but Mo still didn't smile.

"You better! We're having a _family dinner_ in the keep, and it'll be all weird if you're fighting with Cynthia again."

"Again…?" Severa used to fight with Cynthia all the time when they were younger, "Mo' does that mean you… remember?"

Her sister frowned, wiggling to try and free herself from Severa's pinning weight.

"No, but clearly _you_ don't. Last month? Luci had to step in… you had Cynthia in a headlock- not even mom could stop you."

Severa blinked wildly. She… couldn't recall at all.

"You need to relax, Sev." Morgan sighed, tilting her head to try and hide a weary smile.

"I can't relax. Not when-"

"We need to get stronger. I know." Morgan huffed. The younger sister managed to wiggle an arm free, gently flicking Severa's forehead. "When was the last time you took a break?"

After Grima… but before the official peace declaration? There was a big blank spot she was drawing up, and the grinding sound deep in her ears could have been mistook for actual gears grinding. It was her teeth, gritted in anger and frustration, and Morgan sense just how agitated it made her older sister.

"When was the last time you even went to shop in the city?"

Again, Severa drew up blanks. It had been… before Grima but _after_ Valm... during the war… with…

The memory chilled her veins.

With her "father".

"A while." Severa pelted out, though Morgan only wiggled more, closing in until she was nearly face-to-face with Severa. It was like the little cherry-head were trying to sniff out that her older sister were lying.

"Girls?" A dreadfully familiar voice called out from the entrance to the training hall, "Morgan, I didn't recall you taking grappling lessons."

Both siblings froze.

"F-Father!?"

"Dad!"

Like an eel, Morgan slipped out from under Severa, making her way to their father's side.

"Sev was just teaching me, 'cuz you never know!"

"A good point Morgan! Perhaps I should ask Vaike to show me… Anyways, your mother and I had a great idea for our day off, so get yourselves cleaned up and meet us at the stables."

"Are we going somewhere, dad?"

Severa pulled herself up, not even bothering to doff her armor as she slowly trailed behind the two. The spoke so nonchalant, so natural despite everything that happened. She held onto her head, trying to dull the throbbing.

After Grima, before the peace declaration.

After her mother locked herself away in her quarters and refused to come out.

After Severa had to hold everything together. She had experience with loss, especially losing her father once before- she figured that losing him a second time would hurt less than the first. Turns out, no one had any actual precedence for losing their father _twice_ and, in fact, it most certainly hurt _more_. She never got to say her goodbyes the second time around.

But here he was, back again from the dead, almost as if nothing had happened.

No one would say that they weren't glad to have Robin back, but had Severa really been the only one who had actually _expected_ him to never return? Even the pragmatist that was her mother had held a prayer to Naga on her lips every night until his eventual return.

"Severa? Sweetie?"

Severa blinked once, twice, and by the third time, the man in front of her was not that wizened face of her real dad, but of her young false-father.

"Sweetie, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Severa shuddered. She had made him call her that, in hopes that it would ease that ache in her heart.

It hadn't. Though this Robin did his best, he even made the affectionate name _sound_ natural… it still rang hollow to Severa.

He'd retreat from her dismissal of him, his concern was all lip service anyways.

But her 'father' stopped dead in his tracks. Though they were practically the same height, he seemed to tower over her, hands on his hips as he slowly leaned in with scrutinizing eyes.

"You aren't." Like the lightning magic he so expertly commanded, Severa's young father had grabbed both of her cheeks, giving them a gentle pinch.

"By Naga's grace, your frown is set in like mortar. You keep that up and you'll be more wrinkled than Old Hubba."

"That's not a nice thing to say to a beautiful young woman like _your daughter_." Severa growled, but that only seemed to delight her father.

"There we go, there's a little bit more of my Severa." He smiled brighter, unawares of the power his words had on her.

She wasn't _his_ Severa and that hurt; it hurt worse than any sword-stroke- but she couldn't get _angry_. She couldn't use her anger and sharp edges to drive him away like she did others.

Because he _meant_ it.

"Dad." Severa croaked.

"Yes, Severa dear?" Her father gently wiped the unwanted tears from the corner of her eyes as Morgan lingered just behind him. It was just like back then-

"I'll miss you." The words clumsily fell out of her mouth, like a babe struggling to keep food in.

"I'm not going anywhere, sweetie."

' _But I am.'_ Severa told herself as she hugged her father. His arms wrapped around her like a blanket. She'd burn the feeling in as best she could, so that she could carry it with her back to _their_ world, so that she can use it to keep fighting. Perhaps… perhaps her father knew what she was thinking, patting her back to affirm that feeling.

"Sev...er...a… can't… breathe-"

Surprised, she released her grip, watching stunned as her father stretched out his back. Did... she hear something pop? Still, Robin was smiling- melancholic, loving, but still very much a smile. He knew. Of course _he_ knew.

She would still attempt to convince her friends to come; she owed herself that much at least.

"So…" Robin cleared his throat, "Allow me to make up for breaking my promise."

"Daddy, you do not have _nearly_ enough gold saved up for that."

"Yeah, dad!" Morgan latched onto their father, cheeks again pouting, jealous that she wasn't the center of attention this time around. Still, their father had that wizened, knowing smiled on his face as he gently detached Morgan.

"But I can try!" He slipped away faster than either of his more athletic daughters had anticipated. "Stables, within the hour!"

The two sisters stood dumbfounded in the hall, watching as their father dashed away like he were fleeing an angry dragon. Severa half expected their mother to come diving in off of her pegasus next, but luckily they were still very much in the

"What…" Severa's words stopped dead, mind tangled up in just everything that was unfolding. Emotions, memories, and impulse all balled up together in the worst of ways.

Morgan gently grabbed Severa's gloved hand, gently leading the older sister down the hall. Severa's legs simply went along with her sister- so used to it as she was- even as she tried to sort herself out.

"Mo'?"

"Yeah, Sev?"

"I'm sor-"

"Apologize by actually playing nice with mom and dad." Morgan's voice was stern, without the melodic upward notes of when she was playing around. "We're going to join them on whatever this is and you-" she spun around and wiggled a finger in Severa's face, "-are going to come and _enjoy yourself_."

' _Enjoy yourself.'_ Morgan's voice echoed over all the others bouncing around in her skull. It made all that self loathing, all that hate well up in her chest. Their world wasn't free, so why should she get to enjoy herself-

Another stinging flick to her forehead, another sour glare from Morgan.

"Okay! F-Fine!" Severa belted, crossing her arms in a huff, "I'll _try_. No guarantees, especially if we are going to Outrealms!"

There was a glint in Morgan's eye that Severa just couldn't quite put a finger on… but she had this sinking feeling that she were falling into some sort of trap. If this was a grandmaster-level Morgan play to get her to stay here…

No. No no no. She had to stick to her plan, stick to her convictions; even if it tore her heart out to do so.

Which is why Morgan was right, she needed to enjoy herself _now_ more than ever.


End file.
